


Homecoming

by ebenflo



Series: The Return Of Peter Parker [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, M/M, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Soul Stone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 11:43:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16912254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ebenflo/pseuds/ebenflo
Summary: Peter's been brought back from the other Realm...so why won't he wake up? It's up to the Avengers to crack this case and Tony might just be the key.





	Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> All characters depicted are adults of consenting age.

"You want me to what?" Tony stares at Vision, comically bug-eyed. "Correct me if I'm wrong but did you just say, go inside his head?"

"For lack of a better word - yes. All of our calculations - mine, Banner's, Strange. They all add up to the same thing. Peter is here but he's...not really here. A part of him was left behind in the other realm."

"Well then pull it out," Stark demands hotly, crossing his arms. He realises with a brief flash of shame that he's acting like a petulant child asking for his favourite toy. "I want him back Vis."

"It's not quite that simple, Tony," Banner placates. "We tried and it's almost like a little bit of the kid is resisting. Like it doesn't want to come out of there."

"Why not?" Tony snaps.

"Well, we're not sure. That's where you come in," Strange explains. "We think you might be our - Peter's - best shot at making it out of this. We need you to journey inside Peter, find out what makes him tick, find out what's tethering him there."

Tony presses his tongue against the back of his teeth and stares at Peter's form. He looks peaceful in his sleep - younger than his nineteen years. Tony fights the sudden compulsion to stroke Peter's hair back from his face.

"So what, I wear the suit and you just..shrink me down to Scott's size, shoot me inside one of his orifices? Because I swear to god nobody-"

Banner wrinkles his nose.

"God - no! Tony what the hell? No-one is shrinking anybody, why would you even think that?"

"I don't know, I did get all up inside him that time in Berlin," Scott snarks with a cheeky wink, earning himself a filthy glare from Tony.

"No," Banner contests. "No orifices, no shrinking. Tony we need you to go inside Peter's mind in a spiritual sense."

"Okay, so ouijy board? We're gonna light some candles, light as feather stiff as board, that kinda thing?"

"Tony shut up and let me get on with it," Wanda sighs, exasperated, placing her palm against Tony's cheek.

Tony reels backward, head filled with visions of a laughing Peter and an open field. The sunlight is so bright, so real, it dazzles him for a moment. His head is filled with the smell of freshly mowed grass, spring flowers.

"What the he- Maximoff what are you doing to me?"

"I need you to relax," Wanda says, gritting her teeth, her hand hovering next to him. "If you want Peter back you're going to have to work with me here."

Wanda cradles his cheek and suddenly he's falling...

...

Tony cracks open one eye when he realises he's not dead, and he's standing upright on his own two feet. At least, he's pretty sure they're his feet. Both eyes crack open. He looks down, pats himself. Still whole. Important bits still there.

He's standing in the field, but there's not a soul in sight. 

"What do you see, Tony?"

Wanda's voice seems to come from inside Tony, an echoed whisper. It makes him itch uncomfortably and he pulls at the neckline of his jersey as if that might alleviate the sensation.

"Uh...it's a little Farmville in here, Witch. A bit too 'Little House On The Prairie' for my liking."

In fact, the area he's standing in is not too dissimilar to Thanos' own dreamscape, Tony notes with some displeasure. Somewhere nearby a hive of bees buzz lazily under the summer sun. A beautiful white farmhouse stands a few hundred metres down a gently sloped gravel driveway. Tony is sure he has never been here in his life and yet part of him feels drawn to the house, as though it were as familiar to him as his own childhood residence. As though he had come across it in a dream.

Well that was partly true, right? This is Peter's dream. He's invading a small piece of Peter's subconscious where the boy has locked himself away for some reason.

"What the hell..." Tony mutters for what isn't and won't be the last time. He's terrified to imagine what state Peter will be in when Tony finally gets to him. Injured? Maimed? Will he even remember Tony?

"Focus, Tony. I need you to find Peter."

"What do I do then?"

Radio silence from Wanda.

"Wanda..." Tony growls softly. "What do I do when I get to Peter?"

"I'm sorry Tony, but that's all I know. Once you find Peter...you're on your own."

"Excellent, thank you for that. Big help," Tony mutters, rolling his eyes. It might be a dreamscape but it feels as real as anything. Tony sheds his vest under a tree and rolls up the sleeves of his white shirt, unbuttoning a few at the top as well. "Here goes nothing."

There are shoes outside the back door and an empty bottle of wine on a small table, next to a single used wine glass; its companion is lying smashed on the floor. Five throw pillows are scattered haphazardly on the deck next to what looks like the remains of a rope hammock. Tony's brow creases. None of this makes any sense, but he swears he can taste the wine on his lips. A Malbec - and a good one at that. He remembers the press of something else to his lips and his stomach turns. His heart pounds fiercely against his ribs.

Suddenly he hears a voice - unmistakably Peter.

"Peter?"

The boy cries out in pain and Tony panics. There's another voice too - he's not alone. Tony can feel his control slipping. Can Peter be harmed in his own dream? Who else has access to the sort of power needed to do what Tony's doing now, and why?

Peter lets out a high keening wail and Tony shoulders the back door open, frantic now and tearing through the house. If he took a moment he would see the pictures on the walls, framed prints of Peter and Tony. In one they're on the boardwalk in Coney Island, Peter's face lit up in silent laugh, open mouthed and perfect teeth, as Tony crushes an icecream cone into his face. In another candid set of polaroids Peter is working on something while Tony watches on in quiet, loving fascination. The last shot of the set is Peter slumped forward, asleep; a tuft of hair sticks out from where someone (Tony) has draped a blanket over him. There are trinkets too, souvenirs that look like they've come from all over the world. Snowglobes and toys...there's even a pair of mouse ears slung over an expensive porcelain vase. Tokens of a life lived well - a life lived together.

But Tony doesn't see these things. Only focuses on the sound that drew him in the first place. He follows the sound, finds himself in the kitchen that lies in the belly of the house...where he finally finds them. Peter, and-

Tony's mouth drops open, aghast.

Peter is naked. A sea of pale, creamy unblemished skin, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He's bent at the waist, ass obscenely thrust back. His elbows bent and bracing his weight on the marble counter of the kitchen's island, face dropped forwards with exertion. And behind him, one hand gripping his hip and the other supporting his chest, is none other than-

"Tony?" Wanda's voice emerges. "What did you find?"

"I-"

Tony gapes as he watches himself smoothly pound Peter with a practised ease, face frozen in a snarl of possessive pleasure. Those weren't cries of pain Tony had heard. Peter is absolutely blissed out, letting out sharp wails and breathy moans as Tony presumably nails his prostate on each thrust. Peter's cock proudly juts out against the bench, swollen head leaking shiny pre-come.

"I- just- Peter-"

"Stark, do you copy, what do you see?"

And then, horribly, perfectly, Peter looks up and meets Tony's eyes as he begins to orgasm, his face caught between the perfect **'O'** of release and the mortified realisation of Tony - this Tony- standing before him. He suddenly topples forward, empty now with no lover to catch his fall, scrabbling for purchase against the counter.

Tony darts forward, catching the boneless, fucked-out boy who suddenly refuses to meet his eyes. He helps him down to the floor, grabs a decorative throw from the barstool next to them and flings it around Peter's shoulders. Peter who is shivering uncontrollably and blinking hard against a deluge of hot, fat tears.

Tony gives him a moment to recover, gets him a bottle of water from their (their? where did _that_ come from??) fridge.

"We need to talk." Tony says when he thinks Peter has sufficiently settled. He's crouched by Peter, close but not too close in case he frightens the boy (though considering someone or something that looks like him was just pile-driving Peter into a surface they presumably ate their cornflakes off in the morning, Tony isn't sure what to make of this at all).

"Please don't be mad," Peter says flatly, hiccuping. Tony is startled by his choice of words.

"Peter why would I be mad? I'm not mad...I'm just a bit confused. Sweetheart-" Peter shivers at the word. "What is this? I thought this Realm was supposed to keep you safe, be a construct of the perfect world."

"It is," Peter confesses, sounding small and broken. "It _was."_ He picks at a bit of fluff on the blanket, curling into himself. 

"But this place..that man. What did I see, who was that?"

Peter looks up at him, watery eyes and flushed cheeks.

"Don't you know? How could you not?" When Tony doesn't reply he continues. "This IS my perfect world. You are my world, Tony."

The confession hits Tony like a freight train in his gut and he sits down hard on the floor. He's beginning to get an idea of just what this place is and why they haven't been able to extract Peter's mind. It unleashes a dark kind of satisfaction in him, a caged beast he's tamped down for too long. A possessive ache settles in his bones.

"Peter you don't know what you're saying," Tony finally manages to stutter out. "This place has messed with your head, put ideas in there."

Peter shakes his hair out of his eyes.

"No, don't you get it? That's not how it works. This place can only take my dreams and shape them into the things you see around you."

"But Peter, this isn't real."

The hurt on Peter's face sure is and Tony feels like the absolute worst, choosing those words; knows Peter has just misinterpreted what he said.

"Then let me go on pretending," Peter whispers, gathering himself up and struggling to his feet. Tony feels as though everything is unravelling in his hands rapidly and he will be left with nothing but ash once more. Peter is turning to walk away, presumably back to his room, and Tony can't let that happen. His hand darts out and he grabs Peter's wrist, feeling his thick fingers encircle almost the entire slender circumference of it. 

"Peter."

"I can't go back," Peter says, his voice cracking heart-breakingly, struggling to break Tony's grasp on his wrist. "How can I go back when this is all I've known for the last ten years? I don't want to leave this. I can't go back to a world where you don't love me."

There is a beat that drops between them. A silent pause that seems to stretch on for eons.

"That's not true,' Tony finally says, low and quiet. He looks up, meets Peter's gaze, holds it. Peter swallows thickly, his adam's apple bobbing.

"Wha- I, I don't understand," Peter stammers, an attractive blush rising up his cheeks to his ears. "What are you - what are you saying?"

"I'm saying Peter that these things...this life. You don't have to leave them behind in this place. We can make them real. I can make them real."

"But- you- I - Tony?"

"Come back with me, Peter," Tony pleads. "Please, let me take you home."

Peter pauses for a moment, as though waiting for the other shoe to drop but it never does. Realisation dawns on his face as he finally understands what Tony is offering him, promising him. He slowly nods, a look of relief and exhaustion washing over him.

Peter looks on the verge of collapsing again so Tony picks him up bridal style, cradles the smaller younger man to his chest like the most precious cargo he's ever held. 

"Wanda, you there?"

"Stark."

Tony imagines them all waiting. Family by bond, not by blood.

"I'm bringing Peter home."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading xox
> 
> Can be read as a one-shot, if you like how it ends here. BUT, if you do want to know what comes next, click through to Part 2 for the sequel.


End file.
